To Love a Perfect Soldier.
by Singe1
Summary: How did Heero and the other Pilots meet? How did Quatre and Heero first develop 'feelings' for one another? What happened when Doctor J and Noin found out? OMG, what happened to Heero?!! Will he be able to save Quatre, or will it be vice versa? What happe
1. Default Chapter

Warnings: Well, they start out young, but they grow up fast in my chapters, in the next two, in fact. So don't fret! 

Rating: PG-13, for the situation and implication. Graphic later on, very graphic, murder later on, possibly torture or rape, or maybe both! Yea! I just can't seem to write a nice fic, can I? 

Disclaimer: Yeah, okay. I don't own it. *Grabs Heero and sobs into shoulder * I wish I did, though! I'd love to draw you guys every day! 

Author's notes: Man, I hope you guys like dark fics, 'cause this doesn't have any daisies or sunflowers. Nope. I'm sorry it's going to be so dark, but I can't get over myself, it seems. Please review, even if you don't like it! 

To Love a Perfect Soldier 

The night was unusually dark that week. Another thing strange about this instance was the brief disappearance of a minor. The minor was a boy from a well-off, single parent family. He had no siblings, and an average school record of a (B) student. The boy was missing for two days and one night, found after the second day, stolen at night and discovered missing in the morning. His mother had phoned the police and the department had authorized a full investigation, searching in the radius of the hometown and then the city, including roadblocks. There was no trace of the boy or his kidnapper. It seemed that the boy had just disappeared from his bed, leaving no evidence that he had left it after going to bed. After the second day had passed, he was found that night. The body was in a forest on the outskirts of one of the more disreputable parts of the city. It was in such a state that the investigators had to go by medical records alone to identify the body of the boy, and it was concluded that his identity was that of our missing minor. His mother was notified, and there was a funeral The case was recorded as solved and closed, recorded as having no murderer, since there was no evidence of any markings other than starvation and hyperventilation. The police explained the hyperventilation as fear and possibly being coupled with the excelled body heat and lack of fluids the body had shown, upon performance of an autopsy. The police said it was a lucky thing they had found the body before any animals had had the chance to touch it. Since the identity had been established the mother was not subjected to identifying the body, and the possibility of an attacker was never brought up to question. The boy had been six years old, with brown hair and blue eyes. His name was Heero Yuy, son to a devoted mother, who died a year later. 

/The present; one day after another funeral/ 

Enter a warm, though dark, room and bed, with one small table and a black cat with green eyes that is resting comfortably on the bed pillow. A small boy, of about six years, is sitting on the bed, his small, slim hands in his lap, staring out of the window, the only one in the room, at a yard bordering the woods. It is filled with fog and has a single tree, a weeping willow. The boy has blond hair and blue eyes, and is Arabian. He knows he had been kidnapped and brought here for some reason, although the person who had done so has not tried to hurt him, like an ordinary kidnapper would. Rather she saw to it that he lived through the experience of being without people who saw after his every need and want. He missed his family, his sisters and friends. The woman who had kidnapped him from his bed was unusually kind, in her own way, but he was scared of her. She felt dark, sort of wrong to him. Yes, he thought something was very wrong with her. He always felt like whispering around her, like a higher pitch would make her go off. His thoughts were cut off abruptly as the door opened. He watched the woman enter. She was tall, with black clothing, and a black hood over her dark brown hair. It was very dark, a rich brown, like wet dust, and held back by a tight band at the middle of her back, the hair ending at the juncture where her thighs began. She closed the door and began taking off her black gloves. She smiled at him, that almost sinister smile, with the deadly twinkle in her bright green eyes, and spoke to him in her low, honey-like voice. 

"Good evening, master Quatre. How are you this night?" He blinked at her. What a strange question to ask one's captive. 

"Why am I here? Why did you take me?" He had asked her this the first night she had taken him, with no answer. She put her gloves on the small table and walked over to the bed, sitting by him and still smiling. 

"I see that you've finally made friends with my cat." She said, pointing to the cat on the pillow. Quatre glanced at the mysterious cat. 

"What is his name?" 

"Milliardo."

"That's a strange name for a cat." She gave him an amused look, raising an elegantly shaped dark eyebrow. 

"Only if you've never heard it before." 

"I suppose." 

"How lenient of you." Quatre gave her a nervous glance. 

"You're not going to hurt me tonight, are you?" Sometimes she hurt him, almost clinically. It was like she was merely pointing out that he could be hurt in places. She smiled indulgently and passed a hand over his hair, seeming to stroke it. She'd told him one night that she liked his hair, that she thought it was pretty. Of course, that was before she had socked him right across his mouth. 

"No, dear one. I'm not going to hurt you tonight. But don't get comfortable and fall asleep, either. You might be going somewhere." He looked up, suddenly hopeful. 

"Home?" She stopped stroking his hair, her eyes surprised, and put her hand on the bed. 

"No, not home. Haven't you guessed by now?" Quatre shook his head, not knowing what she was talking about. She sighed and stood, walking to the window to gaze at the yard, perhaps the tree. 

"You're not going home Quatre." 

"But you just told me that I wouldn't go there." 

"… Ever." Quatre stiffened, the shock of the statement sinking in to let loose a surprising amount of fear. He was so scared at that point that he found it hard to breathe. "You might be going to meet someone." 

"Someone like you?" He was afraid she would say yes. 

"No. This man is not like me. His name is Doctor J, and you will respect him." She looked over at him, and smiled. He shivered. This woman smiling was not a good thing, but it was better than what happened when she frowned, if she ever did. 

"What about my family?" He asked. "Aren't they searching for me? They might find this place." He was hoping he would become too much of a hindrance and be let go, though he didn't want to become too much of one and be killed. 

"Oh, they did search for you. You were found in an alley." He looked at her as if she were crazy. 

"What? I'm right here." 

"You innocent. All right, I'll give it to you in plain terms. I left a body in the alley of one of the downtown areas of a city near where your home used to be. The police swallowed the evidence and took it to be you." She smiled again, amused at this. "All they had to go by was medical records. Good thing I'm such a thorough searcher, else I'd have been caught a long time ago." Quatre sat there, stunned. His family thought he was in a grave somewhere, with no killer, apparently. 

"Who did you kill?" He asked in a hushed voice. She looked back out the window. 

"That's not your concern. The answer wouldn't even mean anything to you, anyway." He lay down on the bed, his head beginning to swirl and his body starting to sweat. 

"Have you done this to anyone else?" 

"Again, that answer would mean nothing to you." She suddenly turned from the window and walked to the door, picking up her gloves as she passed the table. 

"What is the point of this?" She turned, pinning him with her stare, her hand on the knob of the door and halfway out. 

"The point?" He nodded. "The point is, little Quatre, to fight for peace." He stared at the closed door, a thousand questions flying through his too young brain. The black cat meowed after its owner, and then moved closer to Quatre, resting its muzzle on his hand. 

"To fight for peace." he looked at the cat. "Well Milliardo, it looks like you're my only friend left." The cat gave him a strange look, and curled up by his elbow, going to sleep immediately. 

/Later, perhaps hours into the night, when the moon is high/ 

Quatre stood in the middle of the room, pacing restlessly. An hour ago, the woman had come by and told him to dress in clothes that she had brought, and then left. The door was always locked when she left, and the window was three stories up, with nothing to use as a rope, so he stayed behind in the room, dressing as instructed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, along with plain blue shoes, altogether a very nondescript outfit. The black cat was comfortably perched on his shoulder, riding out his restless mood while nuzzling his cheek every once in a while. Oddly enough, the mysterious cat made him feel better, more like he wasn't totally alone. Then the door opened, and the woman nodded approvingly at his clothing. 

"Good. You've dressed. Come with me." 

"Where are we going?" he asked, obediently walking out of the room and waiting for her to close and lock it, and then walking with her. She kept a hand on his arm as they walked, presumably to stop him from running if he chose to do so. He didn't. He knew she kept quite a few knives and one gun under her black cloak. She glanced at him as they descended some stairs and walked out an open door. A black car was waiting for them in the circular driveway, with shielded windows and a tall man in a black suit for a driver. He had kind blue eyes and black hair, and opened the back door for them. She made him slide in first, and said something to the driver that he couldn't hear before getting in, sitting across from him with a hand on her knife at her belt. She smiled at him, and told him to lie down on the seat. 

"It's going to be a long drive, and you've not yet slept tonight." He nodded and stretched out on the soft leather seat, enjoying the cool feel and the feeling of brief safeness. At some point during the journey, he was partially aware of her putting her black cloak over him, to act as a sort of blanket. He didn't open his eyes to thank her, afraid that she would strike him or take it away. Sometimes she did strange things like that, without any warning.  But she hadn't drawn blood, yet. And he wasn't going to see if she would. When she woke him up, he couldn't say how long he'd slept, and she wouldn't tell him, saying it did not matter. They got out, her putting her cloak back on, and he looked around curiously before she took his hand and firmly led him away from the car and into a building. He had no idea where he was. It was like the middle of nowhere. The building was in the middle of a forest, and the building itself had no logo of any kind to go by. The woman held him tightly, almost hurting his wrist, and switched to holding his arm when they came to the double doors of the building, and two guards looked at him before asking for her name. She frowned, and they fidgeted a little. 

"My name, gentlemen, is irrelevant. My code name, however, would be Noin." The guard bowed and opened the door for them, the other bowing while they entered the building. Quatre now had a name to stick onto the mysterious woman who had kidnapped him, apparently to 'fight for peace.' The phrase still made no sense to him. Obviously sensing his distress, Milliardo nuzzled his cheek. Quatre reached up and patted him on his soft head, happy that the cat had joined him on this travel. Even when Quatre had fallen asleep the cat had stayed with him, curling up by his stomach and switching back and forth between sleeping next to Quatre, and lying in his master's lap and being petted. The room she took him to was the third floor via an elevator. The building was very advanced in technological equipment, or so Quatre thought, and looked to be in top condition, even though from the outside it looked completely deserted. The room was equipped with a table and four chairs. In two of these was an old man with improvised eyes and arm, and a young boy with messy brown hair and hard blue eyes. The boy appeared about seven, a little older than Quatre, and looked to have never smiled. The old man had a weird, sort of dangerous smile, and greeted them profusely. 

"Well Noin, there you are. I was beginning to think you had gotten lost on one of the backroads." He said jokingly. Noin smiled, letting go of his arm and taking a seat, motioning him to do the same. He sat one seat away from the boy with messy hair, which was about two seats away from the strange old man, and one seat from the woman. She was the only one he felt halfway safe around. Milliardo jumped off his shoulder and onto the table, curling up into a ball and closing his emerald eyes. 

"It's a long trip, doctor, and I had cargo with me," she said, glancing at Quatre. "I've brought your next student." He nodded, staring at Quatre with his improvised eyes, his mechanical arm stroking his chin like he was thinking. 

"You tied up all the loose ends?" The woman smiled wider, leaning forward as if she were challenging him. 

"Don't I always? It's been taken care of." He nodded, and held his hand out to the boy, or rather his version of a hand. 

"Nice to finally meet you, Quatre." Quatre nodded, shaking the cold metal hesitantly. "I'm Doctor J." Then he gestured to the sullen boy by him. 

"And this, my fine young lad, is my other student, Heero Yuy. He and Noin here have already met." 'Heero,' Quatre thought as he shook the boy's hand. For some unknown reason, he blushed at the contact with the messy haired boy. Heero gave him a quizzical look, and then turned back to listen to the conversation between Doctor J and the woman nicknamed Noin. Quatre, however, was busy studying his profile, which he thought was the most wonderful thing in the world. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*Grins * And that's how they got started! 

Heero: You're just going to leave it there? 

What? I thought it sounded good. 

Heero: That's not the best place to leave it. 

It is if you want reviews. 

Heero: That's not the point. It's the grammatical structure of the thing. 

……..Grammatical structure. Heero, have you ever heard of an introduction? 

Heero: No. Should I have? 

Of course not. You're the most callous person I know. You barge into everything half-cocked. 

Heero: *Slow grin * 

No, no! Not like that! *Blushes madly * Get out of here!! 

Heero: *Runs like mad as computer mouse flies at him * 

Okay, I'll wait to see what everyone thinks before we move on. And, of course, I gotta wait till Heero manages to pull himself together. Please review! *Gets down on knees * Please! I really wanna know what you think, even if it's bad! I swear! 


	2. To Love a Perfect Soldier, Chapter Two (...

Warnings: Warnings? *leans back in chair and muses * Hmm. Lets see. For this chapter, I would have to say cursing, dark content, not too much of anything good really. Little Quatre won't have a very good time of anything. *wink * You've been warned... Okay fine. Possible torture or rape later on, maybe both. 

Rating: PG-13, for the situation and implication. I don't really know if this is dark enough to be rated any stronger, so I'm just leaving it. Innocents need to be informed anyway, right? 

Disclaimer: I don't own them. And I think we're all happy about that. 

Author's notes: Um, enjoy? Aw hell. I hope no one screams at me about this chapter. Quatre fans will, I know it. Oh well. Such is the situation I have led myself into. Can you believe this came from my head? *shivers *  And to all my reviewers out there thank you sooo much! 

Caer: Thanks very much for telling your friends! I was having a hard time wondering if I should continue this. 

Rocky: Hey, I can respect that. Thanks for reviewing even though you didn't know what to think of it. I must warn you though; it's not going to be very light in this chap. 

Kasra: Uh huh, you know it. The story line is sort of revolved around that, since that's where we come in, but it's not all about that. What am I saying? Of course it doesn't. This is supposed to get mushy...sometime...in the near future. *eyes swirl * 

RavenBeauty29: lol! Thanks for that long review girl. I like what you do with your pen name. That's just cool. 

Bitch: For your continued support for this fic, and other things, I thank you. We all, from this house, do. 

To Love a Perfect Soldier 

The room was not large, but could not quite be called small. It was a room used for teaching, but was lit with a single bulb shielded by a translucent glass orb, and the switch was nowhere to be seen. The room was fairly simple to describe really: a single door with three locks was the only way in or out, a metal floor with metal walls, no furniture, and no windows or skylights. Quatre was led to the room, blindfolded, by Noin. Once there, she untied the kerchief and left without a word. He had been standing in the middle of the room when the door was opened again; only this time it wasn't Noin, but three very large and angry-looking men. Quatre, being sheltered from such negative emotions all his life, was not prepared for the confrontation, and did not take any defense. The three guards saw a scared little blond waif; the result was typical. 

/In the office of Doctor J.../

Noin looked up as Doctor J entered the cozy little office. She was sitting in the leather-upholstered chair in front of the desk, and he took the plain wooden one behind it.  She did not look pleased. 

"I really think he is too young for this." As if on cue, a high-pitched scream punctuated her words, followed by raucous laughter. Doctor J lifted an eyebrow and sat gently in the chair. 

"You know better than that, Noin. This is but one of many lessons he needs to learn. Just look at it as his learning of...people skills." Noin slammed her fist on the desk, causing the Doctor to jump slightly. 

"I fail to see how this could improve his skills in that area. Look how Heero responded to that 'lesson.' I barely recognize him anymore." Doctor J nodded and smiled. 

"Yes. He has improved quite a bit. He is no longer the soft, unsuspecting little innocent that he was when you found him that night." Noin sighed and put her face in her hands as another scream; this time one of loss instead of fear, rang out in the room next to them. 

"What is this for?" 

"To prove to Quatre that people can't be trusted; that people can and will take everything from him if he does trust them."

"He's only six. Do you have any idea what this will do to him?" 

"His age means that his mind is fresh. He's open and trusting, and has no perception of human thought or action. It is perfect for teaching. We will be his first instructors." 

"Lucky him." 

/the metal room, several hours later.../ 

Quatre kept his eyes shut tight, hoping they would go away. The hours he had spent in this room where the worst of his life, and he had a feeling he was not done yet. He cringed as one of the men leaned down to peer at his face. He could feel the body heat not inches away. 

"Well now. You don't look like you're having too much fun." Quatre didn't answer. The last time he had spoken was to plead with them; to stop touching him. The result was a black eye. "Oh, and look at this." He took a strand of Quatre's hair. "You're bleeding; quite a bit in fact." Quatre took a mental survey, his mind morbidly wanting to know how much time he had left. He was bleeding from his nose, mouth, from a cut on his forehead, from somewhere in his hair, ...and from between his legs. Blood pooled beneath him, his body supported by the cold metal floor. Just then the door opened, and the ugly face lifted, to be replaced by the vision of a silhouette in the doorway. 

"Out." The single command sent the three men hurrying out of the room and the woman closed the door behind them. Quatre curled up into a protective ball as she neared him and crouched by his side, reaching out to him tentatively. 

"Don't touch me, please." Noin's surprised green eyes met his blue gaze, and he shivered. 

"Quatre, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you." That only made him tighten his bodily circle, wishing he could back away. The truth was that he doubted that he could even stand, let alone walk out of the room on his own. He didn't know why he was so scared of Noin. She had never hurt him like they had just done. Noin sighed and picked him up, rising slowly to her feet to prevent his blacking out. "You're bleeding. Lets get you to your room and patched up." Quatre shivered the whole way there, wondering when he was going to die. He hurt so bad he almost welcomed the idea. 

"Why did you leave me alone?" Noin looked down at him, and then straight ahead. 

"What makes you think you were alone? You had company, did you not?" Quatre's eyes jerked up to her face, widening in disbelief. 

"You knew?" Noin sighed and shook her head. 

"Listen Quatre. I'm not here to comfort you. I'm not your keeper, nor a mother, so get the idea out of your head. No one is going to coddle you while you're here." God, it was killing her to say this. It always did. The expression on their faces... "No one loves you, Quatre. No one cares if you live or die now, unless we give you something to do." She opened the door to his new room, a small apartment with all the furnishings. "You'll be staying here now." She put him on the bed, ignoring the grunt of pain. After retrieving a med kit, she showed him how to dress his wounds, helped him with those he could not reach, and then left. Quatre lay on the bed, careful not to move. He swallowed the coppery thickness that coated his throat, and drifted off to sleep. For truly; he was exhausted. Unfortunately, he had nightmares. Things grabbed at his clothes, ripping them from his body and then ripping his skin from him. They pressed him against the walls of his dream, violating him in the worst way, tearing his insides to shreds. Hot liquid splashed the floor and blood splattered the walls and his legs. 

/Dawn/ 

How long he cried out he could not say, but his throat was raw when he woke to a knocking outside his door. He got up and slowly walked over to open it, noticing the feeling of emptiness that now accompanied every thought he had. A gasp escaped him as he saw who was at the door. It was the boy from yesterday. 

"Heero?" The messy-haired boy nodded, his eyes hard as ever. Quatre had forgotten about him during his...lesson. 

"Breakfast is ready. Get cleaned up and I will show you where the room is." Quatre stared at him, slack-jawed, till the older boy shoved him towards the bathroom. "Hurry up. Time does tend to pass, you know." Did Heero not notice the blood all over him, or did he just not care? Quatre left that train of thought unfinished as he stepped into the door-less shower room, and began to wash off the evidence of the previous night. Outside of the room, Heero waited on his bed, sitting next to the wide circle of dried blood that announced plainly where his new classmate had slept. The black cat curled up in his lap and closed his eyes, feeling safe close to a soldier with no warmth. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Yeah, I _know_ it's short. *runs and hides * At least no one here knows where I live. And what will be done with flamers cannot be said at here, since this is still rated PG-13. 

Heero: Your friend Chase doesn't seem to think this is right. 

*from hiding place * What? 

Heero: This maltreatment of Quatre. 

Since when do you give a f***? 

Heero: Uh......

Yeah, that's what I thought. Shut up Heero. So, what do you guys think? Please tell me! The rights to the responsibility of the continuation of this story rests with me, so I need your feedback! In short, it's that little button down there, see it? 


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